I fetched her at a Mall outside of Cape Town. She had come all the way from George in a cardboard food box, with a new baby blanket, no food or water and she was filthy. I hadn’t done too much research on her and so was a little surprised at what she looked like, not quite the beauty of Annabella. Her whole body was rigid with fear, and her little legs were stretched out straight, I couldn’t even mould her against me. I turned her onto her back in my lap, she became still and regarded me intently. She had and still has glorious long black eyelashes, and little dark button, teddy bear like eyes. She has a way of searching my soul, and bringing peace to my often chaotic days.
I was reminded last night of the movie, Babe and this particular line, “The pig and the farmer regarded each other and for a fleeting moment something passed between them, a faint sense of some common destiny.” The farmer is a simple man who is captivated by a piglet who changes his life and empowers him. His once drab life becomes spectacular. The narrator goes on to say, “Little ideas that tickled and nagged and refused to go away should never be ignored for in them lie the seeds of destiny.”
I have learnt that she is frightened of brooms and children. She is terrified of boisterous dogs that bound up towards her to sometimes play, but perhaps it is her fear that attracts them. She took ages to learn how to cross a bridge and looks at me questioningly whenever some new challenge comes up. I soothe her through these moments and promise to protect her and tell her that she will be alright. She has totally changed the dynamics of my life.
Something most certainly passed between us when she held my gaze as a tiny pup. Our common destiny is sealed. It is a love that is totally unconditional. It is trust. At trying times I suddenly find her paw on my lap or shoulder (yes she can jump right onto the back of the couch now) and in happy glorious situations, she is next to me with her tongue sticking out and a grin on her face.
Babe, the movie finishes with the piglet mastering a flock of sheep through a complicated set of moves, with the farmer as her steady sense of security. His only words to her after the gate clicks closed is “That’il do pig, that’il do.”
I get the feeling when Molly gazes at me right now, that she is saying, “That’il do Shan, that’il do.
2 thoughts on ““That’il do Pig, that’il do””
I love this!!!
She is the most precious child 💟